Author's Notes: written for The Sookieverse's Weekly One-Shot Challenge, Week 8 of 2009 (yeah... really old, but I couldn't resist). Theme: out of the 5 possible games, I picked Scrabble.
Also, you'll probably be sick and tired of hearing this, but please forgive any slip-ups. I'm Italian. Which is why I had to make them play the game in my first language: I only own an Italian Scrabble set which has no J, K, W, X or Y.
I actually played both Sookie and Eric's turns before writing this, extracting the letters at random, to make sure all the moves I described were possible. I noticed that some letters have different values and frequencies – for example, in a standard English-language set there is only one Z, worth 10 points, while in mine there are two, worth 8 points. All scores are calculated according to Italian letter values, assuming Sookie and Eric bought it there.
I have a picture of what the board looked like at the end, as proof that I worked an entire afternoon to get this just right. Here: http : / img853 . imageshack . us / i / scrabble . jpg / (remove spaces and pray it works, I've been trying and trying to post it but to no avail. The site still thinks it's spam)
Making them play in what is to them a foreign language and translating every word they placed for my readers' benefit was complicated. If anything is unclear, PM me with your questions and I'll be glad to answer.
Disclaimer: Charlaine Harris owns the characters, I'm just playing around with them. Also, the situation of Italian vampires is as close as possible to what she imagined, I just went into a little more detail. Being Italian, I can (sadly) assure you it's realistic.
"Scrabble? Are you serious?"
"It's a great way to expand your vocabulary. You'll need it." Well, that made sense. He had had way too many years to learn all the foreign languages he wanted, while I was new at it.
I had caved at some point, and although there were nights when I still couldn't believe it, Eric was now my maker as well as my husband. Too bad I had chosen a rather complicatedmoment to let him turn me: things were changing in many far-away countries which up until recently had been at the very least close-minded towards the Great Revelation. More and more nations now considered the USA an example to follow, and apparently that meant we had to travel a lot. American vampires were currently scattered all around the world to help human authorities meet our demands, and possibly teach the meaning of the word 'organization' to smaller vampire communities. It was chaos. Some of them had barely even heard of Kings, Queens and Sheriffs because they had been too busy hiding.
The challenge we were now facing was particularly tough, and its name was Italy. Italians had come to their senses late, mainly, as Eric had kindly explained to me, because of the interfering presence of Vatican City, which was supposedly a separate entity, but had a say when it came to those 'abominable, soulless monsters'. The existence of vampires had been acknowledged from the very beginning, but no specific laws for or against them had ever been written, meaning that they were there physically, but the civil and penal codes just ignored their presence, causing an awful chain reaction of legal problems.
And in the midst of all this complete mess, Eric wanted me to play Scrabble. Oh, great. He said I needed a fun way to consolidate what little I knew of Italian; my theory was that he just wanted to win, period. I could read vampires now that I was one myself, although I tried hard not to invade his personal space, and that, besides being dangerous in politics and annoying in private, put me in a position of great advantage, which he wanted to compensate with his extensive knowledge of a language I, instead, was still learning. Starting a game with the absolute certainty that you're going to lose is no fun.
"Isn't English supposed to be an international language?" I asked as a last resort.
"Of course, lover, but they'll be well-disposed towards you if you show some interest and respect for their culture, don't you think?"
"Okay, you win," I sighed. This game was going to be a torture.
My first word was ARPA, the Italian for 'harp', which I placed horizontally, with the first A on the center square, for 18 points. Not that I needed to know the names of musical instruments, but being the vocabulary freak that I was – the Word of the Day habit was going to stick with me for eternity, I knew that for sure – I had memorized as many words as I could before leaving.
Eric used my R to form CORVO – 'raven', if I remembered correctly. 17 points. It was unbelievable how one single point made me feel so overly proud of myself.
The next turn was harder: I had way too many vowels for my taste. Using the only consonant I had, I formed CAPO, i.e. 'chief', starting from his very useful C, for a total of 11. I almost immediately realized that I had been stupid – there was a far better move I could have made, but it was too late.
He only had to place two tiles, the S and the I, to form SPIA. The S was on a Double Word Score square, so that summed up to 18. Now that was an important word: it meant 'spy', and I had to remember it if I was going to be involved in vampire politics any more than I already was. One thing Italy had in common with the USA was that vampires generally didn't trust each other.
I cheered internally as I added a T and an O at the end to turn his last play into SPIATO – I had simply formed an adjective that meant 'spied' or 'bugged', scoring 12.
"You're learning quickly," he commented proudly. "But perhaps not fast enough," he concluded as he placed FOCOSI, with the C between the two existing Os. 16 points. I frowned a little and he immediately explained: "That means 'fiery', if you're wondering. Or 'passionate', just like us. That's why I used the plural form." I had heard that word maybe once or twice in total and wasn't too sure I could trust him, but I thought wiser not to challenge him. After all, he was my teacher: he knew better than to confuse me with non-existing words while I was still learning.
That S came in handy: my next move was SODO – 'hard' or 'compact' to the touch, said mostly of flesh. If I had understood the definition correctly, it was a perfect description of his proverbial backside, and he didn't need my gift to know I was thinking of that as I laid the tiles on the board with a smirk. I calculated my score, 18, and felt my fangs with the tip of my tongue: they were having a reaction of their own to my mental image. Eric smiled back and played FAME using the F from before. It was a simple word and it only got him 13 points: he was relaxing too much.
"It's a wonder you remember what that means," I commented. "Shouldn't you be more familiar with," my accent still sucked, but I tried, "'sete'?". That meant 'thirst'.
"I'm referring to a different kind of hunger, my love." Hmm... distracting him from the game sure was unfair, but it could be useful.
I racked my brains for a moment and finally played FIDO for 12 points, with the D from before. That surprised him: as well as the most clichéd name an Italian could ever pick for his dog, it was an old-fashioned way to say 'trustworthy'. Take that, Eric. I liked learning words, in whatever language I could fit into my brand new vampire brain.
Taking full advantage of my F, he chose to write FINE, 'end', scoring 16 thanks to a Triple Letter Score.
The best I could do was use the A in FAME as the final letter in RANA, 'frog', for 14 points. Again, it wasn't exactly a word I needed in order to do my new job – Sookie Stackhouse-Northman, the vampire diplomat – but I had memorized it at some point for reasons unknown. Eric's smile worried me; using the last E in FINE and a blank tile as the A, he managed to cover a Triple Word Score square with LETALE – something any vampire had to know. 'Lethal'. I said goodbye to my chances of winning: the total was 30.
"Getting the best score so far with a word that describes you. Typical," I snorted.
"It describes you too now, don't forget that."
What was worse, I really was in a sticky situation. I used the R to play ORA for a measly 4 points – I couldn't help but recite a few tricky homophones in my head as I remembered that it could mean either 'hour' or 'now'. Dang, why had I let him talk me into becoming a polyglot?
"Are you sure you can't do any better?"
"Sadly, I can't. From the letters I'm picking, one could think Italian was a language made exclusively of vowels."
"Well, it isn't. I'll show you what difference a consonant can make." He put a B at the beginning of my word, scoring 9. I had heard of that: it was a strong wind blowing periodically in the area of Trieste, several miles to the north of where we were. I couldn't very well leave without doing any research, right? I had the feeling he had deliberately chosen not to make a better move than that.
I used his B to lay out TURBO, totalling 16. As well as being a universal term for referring to something particularly fast, it could be a verb, meaning 'I disturb' or 'I upset', and... wait, I had seen that one in a dictionary... an archaic term for a whirlwind, yes, that had to be it. I felt like a little genius. I was beginning to reap the rewards of Eric's rather unorthodox lessons... meaning he had a very strange, sexy idea of what a proper prize for his hard-working student was.
"Thanks for that U," he said with a fanged smile. Uh-oh.
"And why would you thank me for that?"
"Because my next move describes a state I'd really like to see you in." That explains the fangs, I thought as he triumphantly wrote NUDA. 'Naked', feminine form. He was being very specific.
"I'll think about that later," I promised, teasing him.
His A completed my next play: ZIA, 'aunt'. Words relating to family were the sort of thing I had learnt in the very first lessons. 10 points weren't a lot, but it was an easy way to use the Z; otherwise, I wouldn't have known what to do with it. Eric used it to place ZIO, 'uncle', and scored 11 by doubling the I.
"Well, you inspired this one. We'd better stop this before we make up a whole family," he joked.
I used the O in TURBO to make TUBO, 'pipe', which gave me 15 points. It was odd that I had played two words that sounded so much alike, but it wasn't my fault if I had an overabundance of Bs to get rid of.
He took a moment to think and then scored 27 with CHE – a relative pronoun, my inner student thought – using the first E in LETALE. Fortunately for him the H, one of the trickiest letters in the whole set, was on a Triple Letter Score square. Ugh. Well, Sookie, that's what you get when you play Scrabble with a warrior. He's all about strategy.
Unable to find anything better, I scored a ridiculous 7 for LITE, 'quarrel', using the last T I had played.
"That's not very nice for a game between two lovers," he commented. "Here, let me compensate." He used my E to complete the word AMORE for 10 points. I melted a little on the inside; just because vampires generally didn't show their feelings, it didn't necessarily mean they weren't there. 'Love'. Who knew Viking warriors could be so sweet?
"Aww. I like that." Congratulations, Sookie, you won Understatement of the Year.
I had a very useful blank tile, but working as a waitress had done wonders for my poker face. I kept it for later and laid out GARBO, a not very common word for 'politeness', taking advantage of the open A and managing to triple the first and the last letter. 35, my best turn so far. A warm mixture of surprise, from the part of Eric that was my opponent, and pride, from the part of him that had been my teacher, flowed through the bond.
"You were right. Nice words are much better, apparently." His next move, ASILO (another one of those tricky words with more than one meaning: 'asylum' or, more commonly, 'nursery school'. Gosh, I had learnt much more than I thought), which he placed thanks to the O in AMORE, only got him 16. Was it possible that I still had a chance?
My next word was sure to cause a reaction. VENA, 'vein', which I had successfully doubled for a total of 20.
"That reminds me... let's heat up a couple of bottles, shall we?"
"Oh, gladly. It's a miracle we found them around here, no wonder Italian vampires wanted to change things." I shook my head slightly. Had I really just said that? I hadn't gotten used to it yet. Some nights I woke up thinking it had all been a dream; not just being turned, everything that had happened to me ever since Bill had walked into Merlotte's for the first time. And yet here I was, with an entire ocean between me and my home, calmly discussing the fact that synthetic blood was hard to find in close-minded countries, not to mention that its prices had gone up due to the recent tsunami that had damaged the main labs and factories, and playing Scrabble with the man that was everything to me: my husband, my maker, my language teacher, you name it. I went and put two bottles of TrueBlood into the microwave – fifteen seconds and then a good shake, as always – and by the time I came back, Eric had played an impressive NEVE, 'snow'. Impressive because of where it was placed: with that Triple Word Score square in the corner, its value skyrocketed to 33. As if he needed that.
"A word from the north," I noticed, handing him a bottle. "It suits you." I watched him drink as I thought of my next move... and then I magically knew what to do. Declaring my precious blank tile to be one of the Zs – the first one, so the one I had would go on a Double Letter Score square – I added 21 to my score for NOZZE, using his N. 'Marriage'. I waited for his comment as I sipped my TrueBlood. Not bad, but not perfect either. The part of me that was concerned with ethics had refused to believe him at first, but he was right when he said that some things couldn't be reproduced in a test tube.
"That's sweet, especially considering how long it took you to become comfortable with me calling you 'wife' in public," he remembered with a genuine smile.
"You know why I used to do that, Eric." To me, that discussion had ended. I had no problems with the words 'husband' and 'wife' now. He realized I wanted to cut it short and changed the subject: "I found a way to use the Q," he announced, completing EQUO – I gave it some thought and translated it in my mind as 'equitable', 'fair' – with the O I had used ages before in CAPO. Also, the U formed SU, 'up', with the S in SPIATO. That totalled 35. He was too much of a strategist for my taste.
"Since when do vampires spend their spare time improving that kind of skill, Eric?" I hadn't expected him to know all the tricks of the trade. Playing Scrabble was something so... so human.
"I've had a lot of time to kill. Are you trying to insinuate that due to my Scrabble expertise I'm lacking in other fields, Sookie?" His tone of voice was more than enough for me to understand what fields he was referring to.
"Of course not," I quickly corrected myself. "In fact, I find you much more... creative in that area than you are at placing words on the board. Happy now?" Before Eric, I never knew Scrabble could be sexy.
I forced myself to focus on the game and scored 24 for TEMPI, 'times'. Plural form, just because I had no O in my rack to form the singular.
"Sorry, lover. This just might declare the final result." Using my I, he laid out GHISA for an unbeatable 66. The G was in the top right corner. I honestly didn't remember what that meant, so I frowned, but didn't say a word. Challenging him was too risky. As if he were the mind-reader, he asked with a confident smirk: "Do you challenge me?"
"Not exactly. I'm just confused. New student here, remember?"
"'Cast iron'," he promptly translated.
"Uh... nice to know. I believe you."
It took me ages to score a pathetic 10 with CASI, 'cases', in the plural form because the I was already on the board – it was the one he had used for FOCOSI. That gave him the chance to write TESTA – 'head', plain and simple. Oh, the lesson about body parts had been fun – using an existing T and my recently laid S. The E turned my SODO into ESODO, 'exodus'. Total: 18.
But I was determined not to give up and with his final A I played a word Pam had practically forced me to learn, SALDI. 'Sale': music to the ears of any shopping addict, and to mine as well, since I had tripled its score for a total of 39.
Placing the missing letters between an existing E and I he amazed me with COEVI, for 16 points. Again, I decided not to challenge him openly. I just stared at the board and then at him, my eyes begging for an explanation.
"It's a very refined way to say 'contemporary', plural form. You're right, I can't expect a beginner to know that one." He was a patient teacher, if and when he wanted to.
I shook the bag and felt that it was very light: this was probably going to be the last turn. The number of tiles left was perfect to replenish our racks. Some of the letters I had were nasty; I scrambled for a way to get rid of the F, but didn't find it and ended my game with a meager 12 for MIEI, which I played through two already laid Is. Eric's last move was ORMA – 'footprint', right? I asked for his confirmation and he nodded proudly –, an obvious attempt to get rid of the consonants. As a result, I had to subtract 15 points and he only deducted 4. Strategy strikes again, I thought, sighing inwardly. I summed up our scores only to find out what I already knew: I had clamorously lost – 283 to 373.
"I suck." Oh, the puns that could come out of that...
"It's part of the job description, Sookie," he laughed. "Now... you promised me something, didn't you?" He carefully picked up the letters that formed NUDA from the board and lined them up on his palm. I noticed for the first time how tiny the tiles looked in his large hands.
"Ogni promessa è debito,*" I replied as the said hands started helping me keep my promise.
* Literally: Every promise is a debt. The Italian equivalent of "A promise is a promise" and similar idioms.
